


Light in the Dark.

by youworeblue



Series: Hylia's Chosen Hero [1]
Category: The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms, The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild, The Legend of Zelda: Hyrule Warriors
Genre: F/M, angsty Link, another prequel, it's gonna be dark!
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-18
Updated: 2019-04-01
Packaged: 2019-10-31 04:39:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,227
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17842619
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/youworeblue/pseuds/youworeblue
Summary: Responsibility. Duty. Destiny.They strengthen some. They crush others.This is the story of Link's childhood, his awakening as the Hero, and how Despair poisoned his heart. This is the story of Zelda's desperate attempt to stand tall under the weight of all that is expected of her. This is how they helped each other. And this is the story of how they fell.--Pre-Calamity prequel to my BOTW novelization,When the Wind Whispers,and its sequel,Hero of the Wild.Necessary background is explained at the start. Slow updates.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> **PART ONE: TRAINEE**   
>  **Chapter One**
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> Background:
> 
> Link is roughly three years older than Zelda. His parents are Ellia, one of the Queen's personal Sheikah guards, and Thom, a Captain of the Royal Guard.
> 
> The Queen was sent to live in Gerudo Town as a young woman because of her wet lungs. There, she and the future Chief of the Gerudo became very close...

**PART ONE: TRAINEE**

**Chapter One**

_My dear friend from afar came to visit Gerudo Town today. It is always a pleasure to see the queen of Hyrule, but she described her reason for coming as urgent._

_She wished for me to meet her newborn child. Her sweet daughter's name is Zelda, and she has her mother's smile. I cannot help but cherish her already._

_I told her that Zelda is sure to grow up into a dignified and beautiful queen, just like her mother. My friend thanked me, but said that looks are fleeting, and instead she wishes for Zelda to be blessed with true happiness. The way she gazes upon her daughter... her little bird, as she calls her... I have never seen such unconditional love._

* * *

The Queen came to Gerudo Town to introduce her dear friend, Chief Urbosa, to her newborn daughter. The King had insisted that she bring an envoy of soldiers and handmaids, as the Yiga had been emboldened since the birth of the Princess of Hyrule, and the roads were dangerous. The Queen’s plan to travel indiscreetly from Castle Town to the desert was thwarted, for the large caravan that followed her was impossible to disguise.

The Queen was glad to leave the vast majority of them outside the walls of Gerudo Town; only her personal guards, the Sheikah women Impa and Ellia, followed her as she approached the palace steps.

Chief Urbosa was a Lady, but she was also a warrior woman. After she had said goodnight to the Queen Mother and her babe, Urbosa strode out into the Hylian camp and sought out their highest ranking officer.

“The Queen says you’ve raised the finest guardsmen in Hyrule’s history, Captain,” she said to him. “I’d like to test that for myself.”

The captain welcomed her to try any of his men in a match, but he would not participate himself. Instead, he sat with his three-year-old son and watched as Urbosa bested most of his guardsmen. Not all of them were easy matches, and when no more wished to challenge her, Urbosa turned to the captain to congratulate him on the fine quality of the Royal Guard. Before she could do so, however, she found herself staring down at a little golden angel hardly up to her knee.

“Test me,” the child said, sword drawn.

Urbosa looked at the boy’s father with a cocked brow. “I was certain that child soldiers were against some law of war,” she drawled.

“It is,” his father agreed in a wry tone. “He is not a soldier. He’s a _trainee_. And he’s bested many of the men you just faced. I would not allow him to challenge you so foolishly otherwise.”

Urbosa could not believe that the wide-eyed cherub at her feet could lift a sword, let alone swing it against a fully-grown soldier. She took stock of him again, lips quirked as she tried to hide her amusement. There was indeed something in his eyes that could convince her to entertain his wishes—and she so loved playing with children…

“I will test you,” she agreed.

The boy’s serious expression split in a wide grin. “Papa, I told you she’d never back down from a challenge!”

Urbosa could hardly contain her laughter—he thought _he_ could challenge _her!_

So they prepared to spar. Urbosa stood as far from him as she would any adult challenger, though his reach was certainly far shorter than an adult’s. Nevertheless, she planned to be just as unrelenting as she had been to the rest of the men that night…if a little readier to pull her punches at the last minute.

She was not at all prepared for the _blur_ he became. He not only rained blows down on her faster than she felt a mortal could possibly move, he aimed them well. He was certainly a trainee of the Hylian forces; it was a flavor in his moveset even at such a young age, though his form was certainly not perfect. He did not present her a true challenge, not yet, but she could tell that if he continued on his path, it would not be long at all before he could be the pride of Hyrule.

After locking blades with him again, this time blocking a swift attack at her bare midsection, he dropped to the ground, shifted grip on his sword, and jumped back up—introducing the hilt of his sword to her gut with only enough force to make her take a step back.

She stared down at him appraisingly. “What is your name, warrior?” she asked.

“Link.”

Urbosa was struck by the way his eyes seemed to glow in the night, like sapphires with stars trapped inside. “I will remember that name.” She returned her blade back to her side and crossed her arms. “Take to your lessons well, listen to your mother, and drink lots of milk! Then, surely, one day you will best me.”

 

She saw the boy several times during the Queen’s stay. Even in Gerudo Town! For he was but a child and his hair was long enough and his features fair enough to confuse her guards. One day, she saw him sitting in one of the rooftop canals, and she sensed that something was off about the child. Sure enough, when she hailed him down to her she found him bruised and slightly burnt.

He showed only the barest hint of deference when he landed in front of her; no bow, no kneeling, no standing at attention. But the eagerness on his face, the excitement of being addressed by the Chief, was apparent.

“A lizalfo took a woman’s sheep,” he said proudly, as though it explained everything. “None of the men would go after them, so I did.”

“An electric lizalfo?” So that explained the burns. “Were you victorious, or did you barely escape a warrior’s demise?”

Link’s face immediately clouded with grief. “It was already eating one of them when I found them,” he said mournfully.

“But the others?”

He nodded. “They got home safe.”

“Then you did all you could.” She ruffled his hair, then carefully traced one of his burns. “Why have you not sought medical attention, Link?”

He pouted. “Father _forbade_ me from helping the woman. He said I would have to clean your sand seal pen if I did.”

Urbosa threw back her head and laughed. “Then come. We will break open a voltfruit for you in my palace and find your mother. I’m certain _she_ can keep a secret from your father.”

Urbosa chuckled as Link audibly gasped at the fountains in her throne room. She knew that for all the gold and finery of Hyrule Castle, nothing about its stone and banners was of particular interest to a child. She led her guest up to her personal chambers and fetched a voltfruit from her personal ice chest, as promised. Link stood frozen on the threshhold like a statue, but Urbosa snapped her fingers at him and bade him enter.

As he shuffled toward her desk, she asked, “Why so shy, little hero?”

“Are you the Queen of the Gerudo?”

She tilted her head quizzically. “In a sense, yes. We are a sovereign nation, but we bow to the crown of Hyrule as you do.”

His eyes dropped bashfully. “I’ve never been allowed in a Queen’s room,” he muttered.

Urbosa couldn’t help the barking laugh that escaped her. She struggled to keep her knife steady as she sliced the voltfruit up, for she could not stop chuckling. There were too many levels of irony that the boy certainly could not comprehend, and she certainly wouldn’t explain. “You will find the Gerudo are _much_ more relaxed about decorum than your Queen and King are. I invite you to cast away this shyness, Link, and enjoy this freedom while it lasts.” She handed him a meaty voltfruit petal. “Please begin eating. Your burns will feel much better.”

Once she had seen him scrape the fruit from the coarse outer petal and begin to chew, she excused herself to seek out the boy’s mother. Of course, she stood outside the door to the Queen’s chambers, while Impa stood within, guarding the Queen as she rocked the tiny princess to sleep. Urbosa gave Ellia only a passing nod as she strode into the room and approached her friend.

“My Queen,” Urbosa said in a low voice. “How is the little bird?”

“Hardly a peep,” the Queen of Hyrule whispered back with a smile.

“Wonderful.” Urbosa’s bangles sang as she took the liberty of putting a hand on the Queen’s shoulder. “I would like to borrow your guard for a moment. Is that acceptable?”

The Queen seemed unsure. “You aren’t going to use Impa for a punching bag, are you, Urbosa?”

Urbosa rolled her eyes dramatically. “That was _one time,_ and I was as much of _her_ punching bag as she was mine,” she pointed out. “No, I actually have a personal inquiry for Ellia.”

“Urbosaaaa.” The Queen’s eyes pleaded with the Chief, though they sparkled with humor. “Now I am dying to know.”

“A little Hylian voe has shown great valor in helping one of my tribe, and I would like to reward him—but I must request his mother’s approval, first.”

“What has the boy done _now?_ ” Impa demanded heatedly. Ellia, to her credit, did not budge from her station outside the door. The only sign she had even heard Urbosa speak of her son was a slight twitch of her long, pointed ears.

“Ellia’s son?” the Queen asked. “Has he really done something to deserve a reward?” When Urbosa only smiled, she leaned over to try and catch Ellia’s eye. “Ellia, we must go at once!”

Ellia turned from her station at last, and Urbosa was amused to see her face colored a deep red. “I’m sure he would be honored by your attention, Your Grace,” she said in her low, murmuring voice.

Urbosa led the way to her chambers, where Link was still tucking in to the tray of voltfruit. His burns were glossy and nearly healed now. Nevertheless, the sight of them startled the women.

The boy jumped up as they entered, but his mother did not immediately go to him. Instead, her eyes locked with her son’s, and it seemed to Urbosa that they communicated volumes in that single look. Meanwhile, Impa hung her head in her hand in exasperation—clearly accustomed to the sight of an injured Link looking so sheepish. But the Queen, her own sleeping babe on her shoulder, crossed the room to stand over the cherubic boy with concern on her face.

His eyes slipped back to Impa and his mother, and Impa made a violent gesture that reminded him to _kneel, you fool!_

Urbosa chuckled as the boy nearly collapsed into a puddle of deference; of course, the Queen would not have it.

“Stand, please,” she said. “Or sit, my little hero. Urbosa tells me you have earned your rest.”

“Link, the Queen heard of your valor and requested to reward you herself.” Urbosa winked at Ellia, whose mortification was beginning to show. “You may make one request of Her Grace, and it shall be granted.”  
All the women in the room looked at Urbosa askance, but Link responded before any of them could protest.

“Can my parents come home for dinner some nights?”

Urbosa herself was startled at the boy’s timidly voiced request. She looked at the Queen with raised eyebrows.

“Link, your mother and father have a sacred, sworn duty to protect Her Grace and the royal family at all times,” Impa said sternly. “It would be a breach of your family’s honor to leave Her Grace’s side!”

“If it’s my family’s duty to protect the Queen, then why can’t I do it with them?” Link demanded.

“He raises a good point,” Urbosa said, and she gestured at Impa to calm herself. The Gerudo Chieftain approached the Queen and the boy who stood beside her; she reached for the sleeping Zelda and stroked her chubby cheek, flushed with life. “I have seen the boy’s talent, My Queen. He will soon have the skill to match me in battle. And he single-handedly rescued a shepherd’s flock from an electric lizalfo.”

The Queen raised her eyebrows ever so slightly, then looked back at Link. Since giving him permission to be at-ease, he had raised his eyes to hers and fixed her with a hard, unyielding stare. She held it with equal measure, searching his face intently.

Finally, she gave him a small nod. “Little hero, the Gerudo Chieftain has spoken truly. I will grant you this request as you desire it.” The Queen turned to his mother and Impa. “I would have the two of you switch evening shifts to allow Ellia to sup with her family. Is that acceptable, my Shadows?”

“Yes, Your Grace,” Impa said immediately.

Ellia simply bowed her head in acquiescence.

“Ellia, are you embarrassed by your son? With such noble parentage as yourself and the Captain, I’m not at all surprised at how he has turned out.” The Queen gave her guardswomen a small smirk, then turned her attention back to Link. She sat on Urbosa’s couch beside him. “The last time I saw you, you were a babe in arms much like my own little bird,” the Queen said. “Please, tell me how you came to pursue such a heroic quest.”

 

Urbosa lay on her side just a few feet away from the Queen of Hyrule and entertained the now-awakened princess with a small plush bear. The Queen smiled on as her daughter giggled and grabbed for the bear with tiny fingers, but Urbosa had sensed a great preoccupation in her friend’s mind. It had been several hours since Ellia had returned Link to the camp outside Gerudo Town, and Urbosa had waited until now to ask the Queen what she thought of the boy—for she also guessed that he was the source of the Queen’s wandering thoughts.

“I’ve always been in awe of your ability to be in two places at once,” Urbosa said teasingly. “Tell me, where are you now?”

“With the boy,” the Queen replied. “I have been dreaming lately, Urbosa. I sit with Zelda as my dear, departed sister plays a lullaby on the Goddess’s Harp. All around us are thousands of women whose faces I do not recognize, but they each have Zelda’s eyes. I am at peace in their presence, and my daughter sleeps, but I always _wake_ with a terrible feeling…” She closed her eyes, her smile slipping into a frown. Urbosa noticed that the crease between the Queen’s brows had deepened since they last met, that the lines that dragged at the corners of her mouth were more pronounced. Those marks of time and trouble had not been present before her marriage and the birth of her child…

“The Goddess watches over you,” Urbosa said, “and your daughter. That should be a blessing.”

The Queen sighed. “The Goddess may _be_ my daughter, Urbosa. That is what fills me with such fear when I wake.”

Urbosa reached for the Queen’s hand, and they laced their fingers together between them. The Gerudo Chief did not speak for a long while as she tried to imagine the playful, chubby baby between them as the Goddess reincarnated. In their childhood, the Queen had often mentioned that she believed her sister to be a reincarnation of the Goddess, for she was kind and wise and fierce and bore the sacred name of first-born daughters of Hyrule. Urbosa had only ever humored the theory, and the Crown Princess’s untimely death seemed to prove her doubts. It was even more difficult to think that the babe—named for the Queen’s fallen sister—beside her was the Goddess.

Sometimes she envied her friend’s unyielding faith, but most of the time she thought it placed an undue burden on the Queen’s shoulders. Yet Urbosa had learned long ago that counseling her to disregard these dreams was a fruitless task.

The Queen bit her lip nervously. “I _dare_ not speak of it to Rhoam. His doom-mongering is so wearisome, but…I know that these visions are not mere dreams. I hardly dare think of them lest I give them life.”

“If you believe that Hyrule will find itself in need of its Goddess, then the Hero would awaken as well,” Urbosa surmised.

“I do not _believe it,_ Urbosa, I _know_ it.” The Queen sat up, her frown only deepening. “I had another dream. A girl stands in front of me, waist-deep in water. She prays, but she does not see or hear me. I cannot touch her, though I long to. A darkness rises up behind her like a tidal wave, but no matter what I do I cannot disturb her prayers. Before the darkness can consume her, a man steps in the way. The wave swallows him up, and the girl continues to pray.”

“My dear, dear friend. I see how this troubles you. Is this the urgent matter you spoke of?”

The Queen continued to stare at the closed door, though her mind was again elsewhere. “I came here seeking some peace of mind, my Lady,” she said quietly. “If these visions come to pass, if the Golden Ones take me away from my daughter, if Zelda is called to fulfill a sacred destiny, I…I have no faith in Rhoam’s ability to counsel her. When times are hard, it is in his nature to become harder. I don’t want that for my little bird.”

Tears glistened in her eyes, and Urbosa could not stand the sight of them. She reached for her dear friend and pulled her back to the bed, where they lay in tight embrace. Urbosa gently guided the Queen’s head to her shoulder and tucked her close. “I swear to be like the sands for her,” Urbosa murmured in the Queen’s ear. “I will hold the sun’s warmth for her in even the darkest night. I will be tempered into glass to help her see the world clearly. I will cover her footsteps and guard her thoughts when she needs privacy. I will hide vipers for her enemies, even if that enemy is her own father. But you will, too, my love.” She pressed a kiss to the Queen’s forehead, left flecks of lipstick on her fair skin. “Do not dwell so much on your nightmares that your waking life becomes one.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Time skip!

**PART ONE: TRAINEE**

**Chapter Two**

_At the request of Hyrule’s king, a group of outsiders came to greet us at the domain. Many of them were young knights, but one of them was young even for Hylian standards. He said that he was only about four years of age. His name was Link._

_He made quite a first impression. He was curious and full of energy, with a ready smile. Are all Hylian children that way?_

_Certainly, one thing that sets him apart is his swordsmanship, which I hear is exceptional. He has even bested adults. He must be somewhat reckless, however, as he was covered in bruises. Wishing to be helpful, I healed him._

_It must have been his first time seeing healing magic, as he looked up at me with big, round eyes. It was…adorable._

* * *

 Lady Mipha, Spear Princess of the Zora, stood beside her mother as the Hylian entourage approached. One of the boys was so much shorter than all the rest; Mipha’s eyes were drawn to him immediately. He carried just as much supplies as his companions who were twice his height and build, yet he led the pack of pages and squires. Only the grown men walked in front of him, and Mipha knew that those men were fully knighted.

The group came to an ambling stop in front of the Zora women.

“Hail, Queen Aphore of the Zora,” called a voice from their midst. “Hail, Lady Mipha, Spear Princess of the Zora!”

The men scrambled to attention, each raising their left hand to their temples in the salute of the Hylian Guard.

“Welcome, Knights of Hyrule,” the Queen of the Zora said, bowing her head gracefully. “We are honored at your visit.” She gestured to her daughter. “Princess Mipha will show you where you can lay down your packs before your audience with the king. Captain Thom, King Dorephan awaits you at your earliest convenience.”

Mipha immediately detected the resemblance of the Captain of the Royal Guard and the strong little boy who stood behind him. She made a note of it, but any investigation would need to wait for later.

“Please, friends, follow me.”

  
Captain Thom stepped in to the hallway outside the chambers that had been assigned to him and his men for their stay. “Lady Mipha, I think it would be best to see the king right away.”

“Of course,” Mipha replied. “No doubt he has gathered an audience to hear your proposal, Captain.”

The knight smiled wryly. “Hear that, boys?” he called over his shoulder. “All eyes are on you. Be on your best behavior.”

His eyes alighted on every face turned his way. Each soldier nodded when their captain looked upon them, but the boy remained silent in the background as though he were trying to be unseen.

Thom leaned around the pack and pinned the boy with his gaze. “Did you hear that, trainee?”

Some of the boys among them giggled.

“I heard you, Captain,” the trainee replied clearly. Then, he muttered something under his breath that made his nearest neighbors erupt into a positive fit of laughter.

The captain raised his eyebrows.

“I said,” said the boy, “that I can’t promise my stomach will behave. I’m starving…”

The captain rolled his eyes in reply and turned back to Mipha. “Alright, Your Highness, I believe we are ready.”

Mipha struggled to hide her smile as she led the men to her father.

 

“The King of Hyrule hopes to allow boys of great promise, such as those before you, to enter the trainee program early, prior to becoming squires. However, we cannot subject them to the endurance training of the squires and young knights—they would not keep up in the Hebra or the Gerudo wastes. Instead, His Majesty believes the Zora Domain to be an exceptional training ground for our future frontiersmen, and he likewise believes that training alongside the Zora from such a young age will strengthen the relationship between the two royal forces down the road.”

Captain Thom nodded at Sergeant Seggin, ever vigilant with his wicked harpoon. The sergeant nodded back respectfully.

King Dorephan leaned back in his throne and considered the children assembled before him. “Zora children may mature faster, but they physically grow much more slowly than your own—and even we would not place a spear in the hands of a child,” he mused. “Is the Hylian army so starved of recruits, captain? How old is your boy?”

Mipha looked between the captain and the boy, who now she knew was his son. The boy stood perfectly at attention; he was thin as a blade of grass, and the sword that was strapped across his back was nearly as long as he was tall—and everything about him, from his cheeks to his nose to his furrowed brow, was sharp.

“Four, Your Majesty,” Captain Thom said. “I too had hesitations when His Majesty proposed lowering the age limit for the program. However, I have been given full charge of the curriculum, and I plan to center it around valuable and general survival skills. The boys may hold swords, but in the Domain they would learn to fish, to set up camp in the monsoon, to climb rock faces, to swim, and to track. For those that continue in their training, the endurance and wilderness trials of our knights should be far less fatal. For those that choose to pursue other careers, they will be well-equipped to live off of the land. And, as civilians or as knights, they will strengthen the friendships between our people, Your Majesty.”

“Well said,” Queen Aphore murmured. “However, I believe there is one thing you have not mentioned, Captain Thom.”

The Hylian captain straightened his shoulders. “Forgive me, Your Majesty?”

“Our own knights will have the chance to learn from yours. Our traditions surround the spear, and the trident, and the harpoon—but there are no great Zora swordsmen.” The Queen looked to her husband. “We have often admired your own skill, captain. And it is no secret that the men you train are some of the best in the Hylian Royal Guard.”

“I know that you are too humble a man to boast such a thing,” the king said, “but that _is_ the rumor we hear from downriver. My love, your words are wise. Sergeant, what say you? Would you have your Zora Knights train the Hylian children in our ways, and would you accept their sword masters’ tutelage as payment?”

“Aye,” Seggin said without pause. “The Queen’s proposition is something I have often contemplated myself—though I have never requested it, Your Majesty.”

“Lady Mipha.”

The princess looked up at her father with wide eyes.

“You have learned well from Sergeant Seggin and earned the title of Spear Princess. As you will one day lead our knights and our people, I believe it natural for you to assist the sergeant in training the visiting Hylians. Before I agree to such a proposition, I must first ask: are you willing to take on such a role, in addition to your other seasonal duties?”

“Oh, absolutely, Father.” She smiled at him. “I have already begun training our own new recruits. It would be an easy addition to my duties.”

“Then I can think of no reason to deny the Hylian King’s request.” Dorephan raised a fin. “I will expect you, your sword master, and your trainees in the rainy season, Captain Thom. I anticipate that you will remain here for several days to make the necessary arrangements?”

The captain nodded.

“Good, good. We extend our utmost hospitality to you and your representatives during your stay. If you have need of anything, please do send word.”

Thom opened his mouth to reply, but he was interrupted by a very loud growl.

All eyes turned to the little boy in the back. He did not give any indication that he as aware of the attention suddenly upon him, though some of his companions were less composed. Even when the king began to laugh, the boy did not bat a lash.

The king dismissed them, still chuckling, and Mipha led the Hylian entourage down to the courtyard below the throne room before bidding them good evening. Before Captain Thom could leave, however, Mipha caught his attention.

“Captain, may I ask—what is the boy’s name?”

“Link,” Thom replied. “I apologize for the disruption, Lady Mipha.”

“No, it is absolutely fine. It made my father laugh.” Mipha smiled. “He is your son? Then he must be quite talented indeed.”

Thom was not immune to Mipha’s contagious smile, though he did his best to keep his face schooled. “Let him prove it to you,” he said, and then he followed his boys in search of food.

 

Mipha walked beside Seggin, trident in hand. “I did not realize you and the Hylian Captain were such good friends,” she remarked. “Do you believe that the boy is truly an exception to our laws against arming children?”

Seggin snorted. “Goddesses help anyone who tries to keep the sword from Link’s hand. Or the bow. Or a rock. Or a leaf, for that matter. That boy of Thom’s is a prodigy—and he only managed to _lift_ a sword about a year ago.”

Mipha was shocked that her Demon Sergeant would offer such praise so readily. “That is young, even for Hylian standards, isn’t it?”

“It’s unheard of.”

They rounded a bend in the canal and found that the gazebo ahead of them was already occupied by the boy in question. He was not alone; in fact, his opponent was none other than Seggin’s son, Bazz.

The young Zora squire and the Hylian trainee were squared off to spar, and they did not seem to notice their new audience. Seggin halted and made no move to interrupt, so Mipha followed his lead. She was very curious to see how the child would fare against Bazz, who she knew was well-acquainted with the spear.

Mipha inferred quite a bit from the fact that the boy attacked first. He was fast, but the shallow water in the canal telegraphed his movements, and Bazz raised his spear and blocked Link’s blow with both hands. The spear and the sword locked so briefly that the grating sound of metal-on-metal had not reached Mipha’s ears before the next blow fell. Link had already whirled away and spun, his sword flying ahead of him, to attack Bazz’s side. Bazz narrowly avoided bisection by stepping out of the boy’s short range, and he landed lightly on the balls of his feet before springing forward once more. The head of his spear lead the way.

Link side-stepped smoothly, and he brought his sword careening down toward Bazz’s head. Mipha could not help her gasp; she doubted the boy’s ability to pull his blow before inflicting damage on his opponent, and she doubted Bazz’s ability to block such a well-timed strike. But Bazz contorted himself marvelously, his feet even leaving the ground momentarily, and change the direction of his thrust so that the hooked tip of his spear caught the crossguard of Link’s sword. The spear embedded itself in the roof of the gazebo, and Link’s sword went flying with it.

The boys both collapsed in a heap, and their weapons clattered down from the roof around them.

Link sprang up, his eyes wide with breathless excitement, and he extended a hand for Bazz. “That was amazing, Bazz!” he cried. “It was like you were swimming in the air!”

“How do you move _so fast?”_ Bazz replied.

“I eat a lot of swift carrots!”

Bazz made a face.

“What have I always told you, Bazz?”

The boys jumped to attention when Seggin finally made his presence known. Their chests still heaved from exertion, and their exhilarated smiles were impossible to school. Seggin nodded at them to be at ease, but their eyes strayed to where Mipha looked on. She nodded as well, and they finally relaxed.

“A meal of staminoka, iron shrooms, and swift carrots is the meal of a true warrior,” Bazz puffed. “That’s what you always say. But iron shrooms and carrots are sooo gross!”

“Blame the chef,” Seggin said glibly. “Now, that was a nice little match, boys, but don’t you have somewhere to be, Bazz?”

“Yes, Sergeant!” Bazz collected his spear, patted Link on the shoulder, and ran off to the waterfall-ascension lesson that Mipha knew he liked to skip. “Bye, Link!” he called over his shoulder.

Mipha approached the remaining boy and knelt to be level with his gaze. He was not wearing a gambeson under his white trainee frock, and his bare arms and exposed ribs were covered in bruises both new and old. He had even scored a black eye since she had last seen him, in the throne room the night previous. “Young Link. You are a marvelous swordsman, but is your defense lacking? Why are you so bruised?”

Link blinked at her in confusion, then looked down at his exposed forearms as though seeing the black-and-purple splotches for the first time. “I’m not used to three-on-one,” he said with a shrug. “The Big Bad Bazz Brigade is teaching me a lot!”

Seggin chuckled, but Mipha cast a concerned look at the Demon Sergeant. “Three-on-one? Link, are you certain that they are not bullying you? You are quite injured by my estimation.” She held out her hand for his. “I will heal you, but you must tell me the truth.”

“I _am,”_ he protested. “It’s no fair when the squires gang up on me, so I asked if I could practice with Bazz and Rivan and Gaddison! They’re _helping me,_ Zora Princess.”

“Just ‘Lady Mipha’ is perfectly adequate.” She called her healing powers to her fingertips by imagining the skin under her fingers as fresh and unwounded as the petals of fleet lotus flowers. After the first bruised patch healed, Link looked up at her with wide eyes, his jaw slack in awe. She was tickled by his wondrous expression.

“Does your father know of the squires’ behavior?” Seggin asked Link gruffly. “I don’t tolerate that kind of tomfoolery in my ranks, as I’m sure Bazz and his friends have told you.”

Link’s eyes drifted to Seggin, then back down to his arm. He focused on the healing, and he spoke quietly. “I can learn to handle the swords, Sergeant Seggin. I knew this was gonna happen when I joined the trainees. The captain made it con-dish-nul that I handle my battles myself.”

Mipha could not fathom telling a babe to handle such bullying on his own! She glanced at Seggin, aghast, but he nodded along as though this were logical to him. “Well, it seems that you will soon be well-equipped to handle any gang of squires or thugs that come your way,” Seggin said. “I look forward to your return in the rainy season. I’m certain the Big Bad Bazz Brigade does as well.”

Link understood that he was dismissed, but Mipha had not released his arm as of yet. With her other hand, she parted his long hair and covered his black eye with her palm. He stared at her all the while.

“Thank you for your kindness, Lady Mipha,” the boy said. “I promise, I’ll be better about dealing with the squires so you don’t need to worry about me next time!”

She offered him a small smile. “It is my pleasure to heal,” she assured him, “but I do hope that you will no longer _need_ to deal with the squires.”

Link nodded and finally reclaimed usage of his arm. He flexed his fingers, then immediately reached for his sword. Mipha noted that he was left-handed, and that something about his bearing changed when he held his sword. When he bowed to her, saluted Seggin, and left, Mipha watched him go until he disappeared around a distant corner.

“Do not worry about him, Lady Mipha,” Seggin said gently. “The boy has bested grown men—once he has a little more practice, no group of thugs will hope to touch him.”

“Swift carrots and iron shrooms, no?” Seggin chuckled, but Mipha’s worries did not subside. “I think I should speak to Captain Thom. Surely—”

“Lady Mipha, I assure you that the captain is aware. He is not blind; he has surely seen Link’s bruises. He is not deaf; I’m sure he has heard of the boys’ contempt for Link. But Link, the Hylian King, and the boy’s father were well aware of the way such an upstart, such a pipsqueak prodigy, would be received by the older trainees… Whatever discipline the boys receive, they would take out on Link twofold. It is best for Link to rise to the occasion and teach them to fear the bite of his blade.”

“I suppose,” Mipha replied. She knew well enough that Captain Thom was a kind man, and she did not doubt his affection for his son. But the idea that disciplining Link’s bullies would incur even more ill-will seemed… “Do Hylians have a greater capacity for evil in their hearts, Sergeant?” she asked.

Seggin’s fins drooped a little, and he turned away to look out at the horizon where the rest of Hyrule lay, green and growing. “Yes,” he said. “Yes they do.”


	3. Chapter 3

**PART ONE: TRAINEE**

**Chapter Three**

_“There is a sweetness in you, Link,” Impa said as she resettled herself on her pillows. “You get that from your mother.”_

_The boy at her feet winced reflexively. He had wanted to hear this, and part of him wanted her to continue more than anything else—and yet mention of his mother hurt him precisely because it did not hurt. He struggled to meet her eyes as Impa regarded him so intently, but he hoped that she understood his need to hear more, to power through the guilt._

_“She was a strong Sheikah in my generation, and together we served as secret guards of the royal women: the Princess Zelda, and the Queen mother before her. That is how she met your father, and that is how I came to know you from boyhood. Your father, in his wisdom, encouraged you to train under your Sheikah aunts and uncles. He wanted your steps to be without sound, your arrows to fly true, and your resourcefulness be enough to carry you through life… should either or both of your parents fall in the line of duty. So I trained you, Link. I was your teacher.”_

* * *

 

A shadow slipped into the dormitory and threaded its way between the bunks with ease. The boys sleeping in them snored without cease, blissfully unaware of the danger in their midst.

A bed had been upturned at the end of the room, and its former occupant had stripped it of its dressing and made up a nest for himself in the nearest corner. A red welt had blossomed across his upturned face, but he slept deeply. A sword lay at his side, as long as he was tall.

The boy’s ears twitched, and he jumped in fright when he felt the warmth of a hand and the icy sting of steel under his chin.

Impa removed her blade before he could slit his own throat on it.

For a moment, he didn’t recognize her, but soon his eyes grew curious and he picked up his sword to follow her.

She moved slowly so that he would not wake the other trainees in any attempt to hurry out of the room; soon, she was leading him down the dark hallway and deeper into the castle.

Without warning, she ducked under a tapestry and into a hidden room; the fabric hardly fluttered to indicate her movement. It took him a split second to realize where she had gone, and he lifted the tapestry awkwardly, his eyes wide in wonder.

“I had no idea this was here!” he whispered in awe.

“There are many of these hiding places throughout the castle, enchanted so that only the truly cunning and the Sheikah can see them.” Impa crossed her arms, and Link straightened up, realizing this was a serious excursion. “You may not look Sheikah, but you are part of my tribe. It is your family’s wish that your steps be without sound, your arrows fly true, and your resourcefulness be enough to carry you through any danger. Your lessons in the Sheikah arts begin tonight.”

His wide eyes sparkled with disbelieving joy. “I’m going to be an assassin?!”

“No.”

His face fell immediately.

“As a Sheikah, it is your duty to protect the Hylian royal family. With your Hylian features and knightly training, the royal family’s enemies will underestimate you. You will be the ultimate guard, a true champion of Hyrule.”

Impa pressed her lips together firmly to keep a smile off of her face; Link’s cheeks were rosy and his eyes had begun to glow with excitement once more, and she hated to admit how much she loved seeing him like this.

“I’m ready, Aunt Impa!”

“In these shadows, I am your general,” she said sharply. “Understand?”

“Yes, general!”

Link stood to attention like a knight, and Impa smirked. “That’ll do. Now, quiet down. If you are to complete your training before the rainy season, we had better begin.”

 

“I don’t get it, don’t I need the shoes you and Mom wear to be silent?”

“Sheikah can make any shoe silent,” Impa murmured. “That is what makes us such brilliant spies.”

They stood at the door to the stables—not the stables where the royal steeds were kept, or even where the knights’ horses were kept, but where the war horses were kept. Link loved horses, but he knew the cavalry horses were killers and would go after any man they did not recognize…including other knights and pages.

“It is your task to walk through the stable without waking a single horse,” Impa said. “If you can do that, we will move on to the next lesson tomorrow night. But if you wake the horses, you must do it again tomorrow. If you are alive.”

Link gulped. He knew his mother would avenge his death, but he also knew that Impa didn’t care.

“Tonight, I will go ahead of you. Try and understand what I am doing, apprentice. If you do not learn quickly, I will not go ahead of you tomorrow.”

Impa opened the door without a sound. Link glanced at her hand and found it tight on the edge of the door, never relinquishing control of its movement until she was certain it would have no momentum upon release. It remained still and silent when she released it, but she did not step immediately into the stable. She stared into the darkness, and Link forced himself to look away from her and stare into darkness as well. His eyes adjusted slowly to the dark and distinguished between shadows and darker shadows, and while he watched, his ears cataloged every sound within.

At last, Impa stole forward. Link watched her feet and saw that she walked differently than usual; instead of long strides, she lifted her feet and bent her knee slightly more than was natural with each step. When she set her foot down, it was purposeful, and again, she controlled her muscles and movement and never let gravity take the lead. Her steps were silent, but they were swift. She was well-practiced in this gait.

She quickly left the entryway and passed the first stall. The horse were tied from their halters to the post of their stall by a single rope; it would not take them much effort to yank the wall-attachment and kill a passerby.

The gray horse in the stall did not even flick its ear as Impa walked by.

Halfway down the length of the stable, Impa paused. Link had not heard a change, but he saw her incline her head slightly as though she were listening to something. A tense moment passed; Impa’s muscles coiled, and then she sprang forward. One foot touched the ground, still silent; her knee bent, then unwound and launched her the last few yards to the door.

A horse snorted, but no more.

Link released a breath he had not known he had been holding. Impa turned at the door, and in the murk of the night he could barely make out the dim red glow of her eyes.

She inclined her head, and he gave her a thumbs up. Nevertheless, he was grimly aware of how difficult it was going to be to mimic her on a first attempt.

Link stepped away from the door, aware of Impa’s concerned frown. He ignored it and turned to practice.

He spent what felt like years listening to himself walk in the hallway outside the stable. He was so nervous that one misstep would end his life, but there was also his pride urging him to be perfect. It would impress Impa _so much_ if he could get this right in the first try—he could tell that she didn’t think it was possible, and he wanted more than anything to show her otherwise.

She had called him apprentice, after all, and he wanted to be worthy of the title.

When at last he felt ever so slightly sure of his steps, Link faced the door. Impa still waited for him, arms crossed and frown deep.

Link clenched his jaw and stepped into the stable.

He took his time, but the slower he went the more he sweat. It took a decade to pass by the first war horse. It towered above him, swayed ever so slightly in its sleep, and he made the mistake of looking up at its nose. Its nostrils flared, and he was certain that if the sound of him didn’t wake it up, his smell would…

It did not.

Link continued.

Finally, he reached the same spot where Impa had heard something and decided to take a swift exit. Link listened as well, and he immediately heard what she had: a human’s faint snores.

He glanced in the direction of the sound and nearly laughed. A page was curled up in the straw beneath his knight’s hose, a jug of liquor upended beside him. Link looked back at Impa and grinned, but she only lowered her chin and stared at him more intensely.

He did not stop smiling as he continued his slow walk through the stable and reached her side.

She did not look as pleased as he had hoped, but she opened the door for him and they exited the stable in silence. It wasn’t until she closed the door that she voiced her displeasure.

“It took you half the hour from the moment you stepped across the threshold to the moment you stood at my side. It was wise of you to practice, but clearly you need more. It is an exception, not the rule, that a target will stand in one place for half an hour and wait for you to creep up on them. Tomorrow, you will walk the stable again—and again, and again—until you can walk across it in five silent minutes.”

“You didn’t tell me there was a time limit,” he muttered. She had robbed him of some of his joy, but not all of it. He would take praise where it was given, even if it was for as slight a thing as having not rushed in clumsily and arrogant to the challenge.

Impa gave him a sharp look.

“General,” he added.

 

The next night, Link woke to a knife at his throat once more. He followed her out of the dorms and to the stable, and this time his walk took him twenty, not thirty, minutes. It still was not fast enough.

Link practiced his silent walking between training bouts and meals. The other trainees snickered at the way he bent his knees and skittered through the halls, but Link ignored them. _They_ weren’t being trained to be Sheikah spies, and that was their loss.

The third night, Link couldn’t sleep, he was so eager to impress Impa. But no knife appeared at his throat, and the night dragged on. Eventually he was fed up with waiting and wandered out into the hall, but Impa was nowhere in sight.

 _That doesn’t mean she isn’t here_ , Link realized, and he hurried to the stable. Maybe she wanted to watch in secret.

But the door was locked.

He huffed and considered picking the lock, but he refrained.

  
The fourth night of his training, Link woke to a knife at his throat and followed Impa out into the hall.

“What happened to last night?” he asked without any hint of demand or annoyance. He had a feeling Impa wouldn’t tolerate it well.

“Sleep is part of your training, apprentice,” she replied. “I want to condition you to waking in danger. Sleep lightly, in a state of not-sleep, but restfulness…always ready for an unpleasant surprise. I cannot do that if you are waiting up for me.”

“Ohhhh. Wow, general. You could have told me!”

“I apologize,” Impa said, to his surprise. She said no more and went on ahead to the end of the stable to wait for him.

  
After mastering stealth, to an extent, his Sheikah training began in earnest. Each night began with a lesson in hand-to-hand combat. The Sheikah had developed a style of fighting that was unrecorded, and Hylians had never mastered; it was dirty when necessary, but it also relied on pressure points and an understanding of the human physiology—and its limitations. A directed thrust of an elbow could cripple a man’s leg for the length of a fight, if aimed properly.

Their sparring matches were always followed with another exercise in stealth and cunning. He learned to follow the night watch in silence and at such a distance that he could smell the guards’ colognes and hear their murmured gossip without detection. Every night, he found a new hidden place and told Impa, and she told him how many were left to discover.

Impa made him hunt rats with his bare hands to train his fingers to be swift. She had him steal silver from the kitchens, then once a commotion had begun over the thievery, he’d return what he had stolen, unnoticed. He felt a little bad for the stress he put the waitstaff through, but he did enjoy the new rumors about a new ghost in the castle.

Link began using his new stealth for other tricks as well. He would sneak up through the castle to the royal residence, where his mother stood guard for the darkest hours of the night, and he would leave presents for her. At first, she caught him sneaking up on her every time with a glance and a small smile, but eventually, she was taken by genuine surprise.

Some nights, when Link sat in the rafters waiting for a good moment to surprise her, he could hear the cries of the little baby princess. She did not cry often, and it wasn’t particularly loud. He had heard babies in the marketplace and elsewhere, and they were often shrill and bothersome. The princess just sounded desperately sad. He considered leaving something for her or for the Queen sometime, but he did not need Impa to tell him that it would be a pointless and likely unappreciated endeavor.

  
Once, he saw the King himself wander up to the Queen’s quarters. Link’s mother was silent and impassive in his presence, which struck Link as odd. He had always been taught to be _sure_ the King noticed that he was noticed and honored, whether that was with a salute or a sweeping bow or a genuflect. Yet his mother did not even acknowledge the King.

The gruff man dawdled outside the Queen’s doors and muttered something to himself, then raised his hand to knock. His knuckles never met the wood.

The King turned and walked away in silence.

In the morning, when his mother left her shift and before his morning chores began, Link asked her about what he had seen. They were in the privacy of their family chamber, which Link had not visited in quite a while. Even there, she seemed a little wary of answering.

“The King is not a Courageous man,” she said at last. Link’s mouth opened in surprise, but his mother’s resolve only strengthened. “He does not have the Courage to be tender to his wife, to show love and care. Was it not cowardly, that he could not even deign to knock and say goodnight to his wife?”

Link was shocked by the bitterness in her voice, and he said nothing as she undid her stealth scarves and let down her white hair.

“You are to repeat none of this,” she murmured.

“I swear,” he replied immediately. “But…why do you need to be brave to show love? Father does it so easily.”

Ellia sighed. “You’ve been attending your religious studies, haven’t you, Link?” He nodded. “What do the Hylian scholars tell you of the Hero and of the knighthood?”

“The Hero holds the Triforce of Courage. He is the Champion of Farore and will always put himself between Hyrule, the Goddess-Blood Princess, and her enemies.” Link bit his lip. “The Hero is brave and instructed the Knights of Hyrule to hold their swords with Courage against their foes, to always be stoic in the face of danger, to never value their own lives over the safety of the kingdom. He never doubts his strength or the importance of his mission: to protect and defend.”

“And the Goddess? What do they tell you of Her Grace?”

“Well… She’ll shelter those in need and give us the strength and health to protect Hyrule.” Link paused. “She’ll embrace us when we die, like She does the Hero. She loves anyone who would lay down their life for Hyrule.”

Ellia did not smile as she turned to her son and took his hands in her own, kneeling to be level with his gaze. “In the old traditions—in the traditions of your tribe, the Sheikah—we speak of the Hero very differently. He never hesitates to mourn with the sorrowful and comfort them. He will protect those who are kind to the weak and downtrodden and outcast, as he is himself kind.

"To us, who serve the Goddess, the Hero embodies what it means to love Her and to love one another. He is not brave because he is stoic in the face of danger, or just because he places less of a regard for his safety than that of others. The Hero is Farore’s Champion because he _is_ afraid, like we all are at times, but still chooses to comfort, to raise up, to defend, and to protect the people he loves.

“Your teachers and your peers and the men in the Royal Guard may say that such emotional labor is women’s work,” Ellia continued. “But can you imagine how frightening it could be to lay your heart at someone’s foot and have them reject it? Judge its worth? Or how heavy a burden it could be to carry someone else’s sorrow?”

She passed her thumbs soothingly over the back of his hands. “The King, for all his supposed strength and bravery, cannot bear to be so vulnerable to the Queen. He, like many men, believes that he must be stoic and unfeeling and unwomanly, to maintain respect—even his self-respect.”

“Wow, he sounds _really_ dumb.”

“Remember, you can’t speak of it to anyone.”

“They’d make fun of me for being a girl anyway,” Link muttered. He sat on his mom’s bed and sighed. “I don’t like that they teach me stuff like that, Mom. I like the Sheikah stuff better…” His ears drooped. “Does Dad believe the Hylian stuff?”

Ellia smiled a little and smoothed out the tangles in his hair. “Your father is a good man. I would not have been permitted by the Sheikah to wed someone who was not honorable, noble, and a true follower of the Goddess.” She pressed a kiss to his forehead and encouraged him to look up at her. “He will raise you to be a true Knight of Hyrule, Link, never fear.”

  
One night, when his departure for the Zora Domain loomed imminently, he managed to slip a flower into his mother’s pocket without notice. She caught him sneaking away, but after he bowed to her and said goodnight, he stuck around in the shadows to watch until, at last, she discovered the flower.

Impa smiled at him when he told her of his accomplishment.

**Author's Note:**

> What's that, you say? Rachel is starting another fic? Has she finished the other ongoing work? No!!! But I will be updating both this and Hero of the Wild concurrently! Woo.


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